


just like me, but six foot three

by ohtempora



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: M/M, Toronto Blue Jays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-11 05:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15966134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohtempora/pseuds/ohtempora
Summary: Danny kissed Luke in August and Luke didn't— should have— didn't say no.





	just like me, but six foot three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ewidentnie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ewidentnie/gifts).



> could be tagged with: backup catchers. anyway!

Danny gets called up from Buffalo to catch and Luke thinks about it, or doesn't; a lost season is a lost season and Russ is a shortstop now, and a third baseman and a second baseman on top of being a catcher. Rosters are expanded, he doesn't have to worry yet about losing his spot.

  
Danny also went on a tear in August and then come September stopped hitting.   
  
They get into Boston at a reasonable hour, the city cool and humid, which is an improvement over hot and humid. He gets lunch with Estrada, and then dinner with Estrada when they realize they've lost the entire day to fucking around doing nothing. Estrada comes and watches TV for an hour after dinner too, because they're dedicated to this.

When Danny knocks on his door, it's past ten PM, and Luke's just managed to kick Estrada out. Either the kid has great timing or shitty timing. Luke isn't actually sure.

“You didn't come here to talk about the pitching staff,” Luke says, when he yanks it open. Borucki’s starting versus Sale tomorrow. Danny is friends with Borucki, knows him well from their time in the minors and won't get crossed up

“No.”

Danny kissed Luke in August and Luke didn't— should have— didn't say no.

He's got his glasses on, and soft grey sweatpants that have the Bisons’ logo faded mid-thigh. Luke remembers that, how he'd wear his old Durham Bulls gear to sleep because all the team-issued clothes in the majors felt too new. Danny comes in and the door behind him swings shut.

Luke lets Danny kiss him now, back him up towards the bed. He lets himself be pushed back until he's lying flat on the mattress and Danny is on top of him, mouth working over the skin low at the base of his neck, where any marks can be hidden by his clothes, if not in the lockers. 

Danny's a good kisser. 

They end up balanced against the headboard, Danny straddling his lap like he and Luke aren't the same damn size, kissing all sloppy, like teenagers making out in the cab of a truck. At some point they knock Danny's glasses askew. He's got a hand in Luke's hair. He likes tugging at it. They've done this a few times, enough to notice patterns, enough to note likes and dislikes and where to touch.

Who knows if liking Danny, or not liking Danny, will matter in the end. If Luke will leave him in Toronto with a couple tips on game calling and the memory of like six decent orgasms in hotel rooms — if Luke will be the one in Buffalo or halfway across the continent.

Eventually he reaches down and finds Danny hard in his sweats, yanks the waistband low wraps a hand around Danny’s dick, jerks him off. Danny keeps kissing him through it, works his hips up into Luke's hand, keeps his fingers in Luke's hair. When he comes he muffles a moan against Luke's mouth. They've got teammates on the other sides of the walls, after all. 

Luke resists the urge to wipe his hand on Danny's sweats, holds his hand up to Danny's mouth instead and waits. Wide-eyed, Danny looks back, then licks Luke's hand clean. 

It's not — much. Doesn't have to mean anything.

Danny sucks him off, after they kiss some more, tucking all six feet two inches of himself between Luke's bent legs. He took the glasses off so he could do this. Luke rocks up into Danny's mouth, lets the orgasm build, and tries not to think about the off-season. Tries not to think about spring. 


End file.
